


Bye Bye Brain

by Riachinko



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:39:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riachinko/pseuds/Riachinko
Summary: Gaston and LeFou go hunting, but they never expected to find...a tentacle monster *o*





	Bye Bye Brain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thatonechick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatonechick/gifts), [no-me-malone (queenallyababwa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenallyababwa/gifts).



Hunting in the winter is a bittersweet experience.

It makes for an easier hunt in some cases, when the prey leaves easily trackable footprints in the snow. There are fewer casual hunters about; more game for the taking. It’s cold and bitter and the wind bites at any exposed skin, but whiskey and Gaston’s rugged good looks keep LeFou warm.

He has reason to complain - their trip today had been an impromptu one: catch a couple of rabbits for a stew; a few pelts for a new hat. A bit of distraction from an otherwise boring day. But they’d encountered a boar, and Gaston being Gaston, well, he couldn’t let him go.

Gaston had been prepared to fire at the unfortunate beast, but then as they snuck closer over the freshly-fallen snow, LeFou had slipped on hidden ice and bumped his friend’s arm, and Gaston’s arrow had flown but missed. It was the least LeFou could do to follow Gaston as he chased the animal through the woods.

They end up farther from Villeneuve than expected, making their was cautiously uphill. The snow and ice begins to thin as it meets the mouth of a cave; the boar’s tracks disappearing into it.

“We don't have a firesteel,” LeFou reminds him. “You'll never be able to see where he's hidden in there.”

Even as he says it, he can't pretend that he doesn't see a faint glow of light; knows that Gaston sees it as well, because he's laid a hand on LeFou's shoulder and begun to enter the cave alone.

“There is some form of light in there,” he says. “It may not be very deep - don't lose your nerve!”

Sure enough, the cave is lit, albeit poorly. Gaston makes his way inside effortlessly, ever brave and fearsome - allowing for LeFou to hold onto his coattails as he trails blindly behind, carrying their combined rucksack of supplies. It’s eerily quiet inside, with the hollow sound of their own footsteps bouncing off the ground to the walls to the ceiling. Although a posterior opening wouldn’t be unheard of, the source of the light is an unspoken mystery.

Suddenly there's a squeal up ahead that echoes around them. “That boar is as good mine,” Gaston growls triumphantly.

He leads them in deep, hand braced against the stony wall as he treads carefully and confidently forward. There’s an odd smell about the cave, it doesn’t seem wholly natural; the further in they wander, the stronger the scent and the brighter the light, until they're bathed in a rich emerald glow and the boar they've been after is in sight.

“There's something there,” LeFou whispers, squinting. “Is that it?”

It's sprawled out on the ground - a dark shaggy mass - dead. There’s light enough to see the black puddle of blood beneath its body.

“What the hell killed it?” LeFou asks, mind racing with grim possibilities.

“I must have hit it with an arrow,” Gaston says, equally as confused, but they both know he’d only startled the creature - that’s why it had managed to run so far from them at all.

He makes to lift the boar - no sense in letting it go to waste - but when he tries, Gaston finds himself unable. The body itself isn’t overly heavy, but its head seems to be - almost as though it’s tethered to the ground. And then, upon closer inspection, the thing is glowing faintly between its ears - like it’s got some kind of iridescent maggots in its brain.

No, not maggots but something much larger--

It bleeds out of the dead animal’s body - a slug, a leach? Something that appears slimy; something that wriggles down into the ground and disappears.

“The damn thing’s diseased,” Gaston says lowly to himself; LeFou has wandered on ahead.

The back of the cave is damn cold, covered in icicles and powdery snow that reflects the mysterious green glow, and LeFou has tracked the source of it: the same luminous slugs that had invaded the body of the boar. Or are they snakes? They weave in and out of holes in the walls of the cave; slow, rhythmic wriggles.

“Gaston, look,” he says softly, awed. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Up close, the lanky creatures seem to be more akin to the long, slippery arms of an octopus that writhe around when poked. Far slimier than an octopus or a squid, LeFou would imagine - with his limited experience at sea, he’s never heard of an aquatic creature being gooey like this. He braves running a finger along it. He knows that the water holds many strange, unique creatures, but...one that glows?

“It’s like an octopus,” he says down at Gaston, who has knelt to examine the parasitic slug-snakes that run along the side of the cave. Gaston stabs at one with his dagger and tugs; the unknown creature tugs back, recoiling itself into the wall.

“Yes,” he grimaces, “but what is an octopus doing in a cave in the woods of Villeneuve..? Or any sea creature for that matter, it doesn’t make any sense.”

There’s a loud rumbling even farther into the cave; close by, closer to the light. LeFou makes to follow after Gaston as the stubborn hunter in him leads them towards the sound.

“Sorry,” LeFou says as his toe hits something more pliable than stone.

“For what?”

“Oh?” LeFou wavers, the echo of their footsteps is downright unsettling now. “I thought I’d stepped on your heel…”

And then the next thing he knows, he’s falling to the ground. There’s an indescribable pressure around his ankles, dragging him down, making him trip. He lands on his forearms, elbows taking the brunt of the fall, making him hiss. LeFou barely has a chance to breathe before he’s being pulled violently into the depths of the cave.

“ _Gaston--!_ ”

As much as he flails about, LeFou can’t move his legs - the creature has him pretty well immobilized from the waist-down. He grapples at the ground, but his fingers hurt and he isn’t strong enough to escape with such little leverage. He hears Gaston chasing after him, shouting his name, but it’s nothing but a faint echo before he's swung up through the air and back against the wall.

His head smacks the rock and his world goes black.

  
  
  
  


He wakes with his vision already blurry, spotty from the darkness. His head throbs in pain from the blood rushing to his brain - it’s soon obvious that he’s being held upside down. In the cave’s brilliant green glow, he can see Gaston slumped against the wall, dead boar by his feet.

“G-Gaston!”

There's blood running down from the man’s hairline to his cheek.

“ _Gaston_!”

It hurts to breathe; his lungs burn as he calls out to his friend. He's kicking and grabbing at nothing, supported by the network of slug-like tentacle creatures, wrapping around his head and neck and biceps; running between his legs and tightening at his ankles with every kick.

Then suddenly Gaston is groaning, coming to. He mumbles LeFou's name, and LeFou couldn't be happier to hear it.

“Gaston! You’re awake!” he yells. “Help!”

“...LeFou?” Gaston grumbles, shaking his head. “Are you hurt?”

He looks up; wipes the hair and blood from his eyes and squints to see LeFou hanging by his feet, held by the mysterious glowing cave creature. His eyes widen - it takes a lot to rattle Gaston, but LeFou recognizes that distinct look of horror and disgust from their time in the war.

His mouth drops open but he doesn't speak.

“Gaston,” LeFou says quietly, “cut me free and let's get out of here.”

He nods, brows knitted together; the grimace on his face twitching at the sides of his mouth. “Try not to move.”

It’s unbelievably difficult not to move, with tentacles wriggling all over him, tickling where they touch his skin; wrinkling and dampening his clothes and making him squirm.

Gaston draws his bow; shoots off an arrow to the best of his ability given the unnatural lighting and the constant motion of the creature. He pegs part of it - a foot or two shy of LeFou’s arm - but in reaction, the tentacle creature recoils, flaying LeFou from side to side. The thing almost seems to hiss.

LeFou cries out desperately, gasping as a tentacle closes in tighter around his neck when Gaston shoots off another arrow.   
  
“It doesn’t like that,” LeFou gags, doing his best with his one un-tentacled hand to keep from being strangled.

He’s pressed against the backside of the cave; can feel the uncomfortable bite of winter against his back. The tentacles are warm, however, as they stretch and snake all over his body to support him where he hangs, wrapping around his armpits, crossing his chest.

The tentacles are making their way down LeFou’s chin, then, caressing him, almost even suckling at his skin. It feels good - and in that moment, LeFou thinks he must have a concussion. He wants to run a hand through his hair; to see if he’s wounded and is rapidly losing blood or something, because he’s feeling too good for being so lightheaded.

That familiar type of dizzy post-coital elation.

“Gaston,” he whines, “stab it or something, will you!?”

“If I come any closer, that thing is going to maul me like it is you,” he spits, tight-jawed in thought; finally conceding by housing his bow in its quiver.

The entire situation has LeFou breathing heavily, drawing in jagged pants. He feels beyond strange; is coherent enough to know he ought to be more frightened, but can’t bring himself to scream.

“What _is_ it?” Gaston hisses under his breath.

When LeFou chances a look over - barely able to see now, eyes heavy-lidded from the overwhelmingly sudden feelings of bliss - Gaston is on the ceiling packing his blunderbuss. He’s wearing a wild glare, and LeFou worries.

“For God’s sake, don’t miss!”

“I never miss, as long as nobody knocks my arm,” Gaston snarls. “What else would you have me do?”

He shoots.

He does hit the creature, his aim clear of LeFou by a considerate margin. The tentacle creature reacts - not by flailing about this time, but by burying itself beneath LeFou’s clothing as though it’s trying to hide.

“Oh! Ah--” It slips deftly along LeFou’s bare skin, feather light; pressing against him. “God--”

Now he _knows_ he’s going crazy. He doesn’t even care that Gaston is here and undoubtedly can hear the blissed, erotic tone of his voice; all of his little murmurs and moans as the tentacles expand their reach, slick and finger-like, touching him where lovers do.

Another gunshot rings out through the cave, and again, it only serves to make the tentacles wrap around LeFou tighter, slipping into his trousers and up between his legs.

“Oh-- _fuck_ \--” he wheezes out.

“What is it doing?” Gaston demands, amidst LeFou’s panting and high-pitched moans. “The shots don’t seem to be wounding it any.”  
  
The tentacle at LeFou’s chin wriggles about, sliming his cheek, his lips. He can feel every individual sucker pulsating against them, hot and insistent, pushing its way into his mouth unbidden. It hits the back of LeFou’s throat almost instantly, causing him to flinch in surprise and cough around it, gagging on the tentacle’s coca-flavoured mucus.

He can feel the rush of heat in his cheeks; can feel it all over his body now - thanks to the tentacles, he’s even forgotten which season it is.

The slime affects him like a drug, far more powerful than any alcohol he's ever tried. It's easy on the tongue and numbs his throat; he’s just barely lucid enough to register the fact that Gaston is still there - he can hear him filling his gun with powder and the scrape of the wadding as he packs it. He’s thankful that Gaston hasn’t yet turned away in disgust and abandoned him; is counting his lucky stars that Gaston is going to fire his gun again. Every time he shoots, the creature reacts in LeFou’s favour.   
  
“Oh my God,” he gasps around the appendage when it withdraws just enough to allow him a breath. It plunges in almost perfectly in sync with Gaston’s third shot, LeFou retching forward, bobbing his head to take it in and properly accommodate it.

Thick iridescent goop drips from his lips; leaks from the corners of his mouth.

He’s in heaven.

The tentacle between his legs isn’t shy about wedging its way deeper; nestling between the cleft of LeFou’s ass. Its suckers moving over hot, tender skin, sucking, vibrating - God, it’s enough to wreck a man.

It isn’t even a surprise to him when the tentacle presses inside - he’s too far gone to care. He arches his back into the touch, whining; spitting up an oil spill of green.

“It f-feels good,” he stutters out when, again, the tentacle isn’t deep in his throat. “God, Gast-- Gaston, it f-feels g-good--”

Another tentacle presses inside, moving rhythmically against the other to reach every erogenous spot within him. The slime numbs him; he doesn’t feel pain. Every inch of him is warm, vibrating; tingling and swollen where the suckers massage over flesh. He feels so perfectly full.

“You’re delirious,” Gaston says in bewilderment. “You’re-- It must be poisonous.”   
  
The tentacle swings LeFou around so that he’s right side up, urging him to sink down further on to the tentacles that breach him. They’re more slick and gentle and intuitive than any partner he’s ever had - maybe even more than his own fingers.

“Fuck--” he gags.

He can feel his oncoming orgasm - his cock barely having being touched, so he revels in the slight friction of the creature sprawled across him; humps up into it, unashamed, eyelids dancing, eyes crossing and toes curling in his boots.

And then the tentacle is plunging back into LeFou’s mouth; finding his prostate simultaneously and making him see stars behind his eyelids.

More of the tentacles seem to come out of nowhere, then - reaching down from the ceiling, seeping out from crevices in the cave walls, creeping along the floor. Gaston has to take a step back to avoid them running past his feet; manages to step on one tentacle and slice the tip of it with his dagger - the only thing distracting him from his efforts being LeFou’s muffled cry as he reaches his peak at the back of the cave.

The green light washes over them, brighter than ever with the addition of the new tentacles. The herbal scent of cilantro fills the air - it’s even starting to make Gaston feel a little bit dizzy.

LeFou grunts and bucks against his tangle of bindings, heart racing, riding out his orgasm, still covered in the slick creatures that continue to push inside.

It’s too much. He’s too sensitive to continue, but the monster is relentless, fucking into him deeper; a third finger-like tentacle wrapping around the base of his cock, eager to wring another orgasm from him.

As Gaston looks on, new figures seem to appear out of the darkness. The silhouette of a buck with an admirable rack of antlers, collapsed on the ground; a boar, smaller than the one by his feet, but impaled through top to bottom with tentacles.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“We need to leave.”

In addition to what looks like several deceased prairie dogs and rabbits strewn about, there are humans: one, an obvious beggar, a fresh body impaled in the same fashion as the boar. The second is decomposed and tattered beyond recognition, but the one thing that’s clear is that there are glowing beasts running through its mouth and down out the bottom of it--

“Gaston,” LeFou sighs out when the tentacle at his mouth slips and runs along his jaw, “I need you. I _need_ you.” 

Gaston frowns, unbothered now by his proximity to the tentacles - not when his dearest compatriot is in the process of being spit-roasted by a creature that has no business outside of hell.

But guns are ineffective.

Arrows work, but questionably so.

He’d been able to slice the tentacle at his feet - dagger still in hand - so he accepts that as his method of attack, signing the cross over his chest as he strides forward into the emerald glow.

“It’s hero time.”

LeFou is very nearly unconscious, babbling and making passive noises around the thick, sizable mollusk in his throat. His eyes are half-closed as he falls limply into the pressure of the tentacles, glazed over with pleasure and the will to give up.

“ _Mmph_ \--”

Gaston’s dagger isn't long, but very sharp, and the tentacles themselves are soft - no bone to have to hack through.   
  
He climbs the crag strategically, careful not to touch the tentacles with his hands in the event that they truly _are_ poisonous; stabs into tentacles with his dagger to help him climb higher until he's nearly face to face with LeFou. He's able to slash a good many in two before the creature turns on him when he gets too close.

He grunts as the monster knocks him back, jostling LeFou about so violently that Gaston fears this it it: the point of his friend’s impalement. But LeFou tenses up from pleasure rather than pain and screams out a dry orgasm; bucks back against his captor and Gaston takes the opportunity to grab at LeFou’s coat, stretching the tentacles around his body tight enough to slash through them.   
  
Mucus ekes down LeFou’s body as the monster is slain, one tentacle at a time. It’s unavoidable - coating Gaston as well, ecstatic to be tearing the thing limb from limb. It’s a bloodbath of brilliant green; LeFou still writhing about on half-dead tentacles, grabbing out for Gaston and falling into him once his support line is severed.

What’s left of the beast retreats as LeFou and Gaston tumble down together, hitting the ground as a unit. LeFou is left empty and in instant shock; gasping, snapping back to a harsh reality. He clutches at Gaston’s soaken coat; his hair; the sides of his face - touching, just needing to _feel_ \--

“Gaston--!” He whimpers. “God, Gas _ton_ \--” And then pushing forward, licking a stripe of otherworldly goo up his friend’s cheek. “Gaston, _please_ \--”

He’s confused.

His brain is still fuzzy, all he knows is that he’s free of the monster, but he’s still so aroused.

Gaston growls in annoyance; whines in frustration as LeFou pets a hand over his crotch, licking his face, suckling at his neck. He’s still faintly lightheaded from his exposure to the slime, it takes all of his strength for Gaston to get up and drag them both towards the entrance of the cave; to go anywhere, as long as it’s away from the dying green glow.

“Gaston,” LeFou moans; soft and sweet and completely broken. Over and over and over, and it’s becoming increasingly irresistible.

Daylight has never looked so good - he can see it now, the entrance is a mere ten metres away.

And then there’s an ear-shattering rumble.

The earth is shaking - vibrating - and Gaston falls to his knees from the suddenness of it.

LeFou is laughing: uncontrollable, delirious laughter.

He rolls around, back and forth while Gaston scrambles to his feet, and this time he’s hesitant; very nearly is going to take off without his friend in tow. The only thing that stops him is an emerald light, rapidly approaching them from the depths of the cave. Gaston doesn’t have time to think, let alone to turn and run. He grabs for his dagger but he’s too slow, the monster’s there and it’s hauling him down to the ground.

There’s already a long, slippery tentacle wrapping around LeFou’s lower body, making him moan and shiver in anticipation. He’s in heaven; his mind lost to the creature’s poison.

Gaston claws at the tentacle wrapping itself around his ankle; kicks at it with his free foot. He tries desperately to reach for his fallen dagger but can’t, and all the while LeFou is whining and arching his back, letting himself be taken over and dragged to hell. The tentacle is slick; far bigger and thicker than the ones he’s just slain. But its grip on him loosens for just the briefest second and finally Gaston manages to free his foot, skittering back on his hands and knees to flee.

But LeFou grabs out at him.

“Gaston, don’t go,” he hums, voice distant and starving.

Gaston’s palm is in his friend’s face to shake him off, but LeFou grabs hold around Gaston’s waist, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over his body through his coat. “It feels so good,” he coos.

His hair is in his face; his clothing’s disheveled. His eyes are red and glassy. This isn’t the LeFou he’s always known.  
  
But he believes him.

The earth shakes violently again and the strange, greenlit tentacle monster that has LeFou hostage rips him back, pulling him deep into the cave.

And Gaston follows with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think! You can always drop me a line on Twitter @riachinko or Tumblr @rudigerblues !


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